High On Your Poison
by Wyndi
Summary: Hunter has a bit of a temper tantrum and Shawn is the unlucky recipient of his wrath.


Content: Mature subject matter, implied m/m slash, language, violence, angst.  
  
Character/s: Hunter, Shawn Michaels  
  
Disclaimer: I own NO ONE depicted in these fics. I am not endorsed by any person, corporation, federation, promotion, etc., nor do I receive any monies for writing sick and twisted tales of their imagined goings-on. Vaguely inspired by "Divine Object Of Hatred" by the Rollins Band. Lyrics, quotations, etc. used without permission. No infringement or disrespect to the various artisans is intended, so please don't sue me.  
  
* * *  
  
Without warning, the door to the locker room burst open, causing Shawn to startle momentarily. He looked up to see Hunter's large frame filling the doorway. He also noticed that not only was the larger man more pissed off than Shawn had ever seen him, but that Shawn himself was somehow the cause.  
  
Hunter stalked into the room, kicked the door shut behind him, and glared down at Shawn. He was mildly annoyed that Shawn hadn't immediately asked him what was wrong. He was usually irritatingly predictable, but not this time. No matter. There was work to be done all the same.  
  
"Get up," Hunter snarled. When Shawn took his time rising up off the bench, Hunter could feel a tic start up in his cheek. His pulse was racing, but he somehow managed to keep his volatile temper in check.  
  
Shawn moved to stand a few feet away from Hunter and met his stare, lifting his head in a haughty manner. He remained silent. He would find out soon enough what had gotten Hunter riled up. No need to rush things to their inevitable conclusion.  
  
Hunter's chest was rising and falling rapidly, and he had trouble focusing through the red haze that clouded his vision. He held Shawn's eyes with his own, not blinking or breaking eye contact. When it finally became clear to him that Shawn wasn't going to challenge him, he lashed out suddenly, his fist sending the smaller man sprawling to the floor beneath him.   
  
"Dirty little cocksucker," Hunter snarled, and reached down to grab a fistful of Shawn's hair, hauling him to his knees.  
  
Shawn's eyes were shut tight as he tried to ignore the sparkles that danced behind his eyes. He was slightly nervous, but unafraid. Hunter had never truly hurt him before and he saw no reason why this time would be any different.  
  
"Look me in the eyes when I talk to you, dammit!" Hunter ordered, curling his fist tighter in the back of Shawn's hair, wrenching his head back painfully.  
  
Shawn let out an agonized gasp, but stayed otherwise silent. He also took far longer than was necessary in obeying Hunter's command, dragging his gaze up with agonizing slowness to finally focus his wide blue eyes on Hunter's cold, hazel stare.  
  
Hunter finally decided that he'd had enough of Shawn's insolence and struck him with a vicious backhand, holding him still, his other hand locked firmly in Shawn's hair. "You arrogant little shit!" He struck Shawn again and felt a flash of satisfaction when Shawn's lower lip began to bleed. "I am not in the mood for your bullshit, Shawn. I would advise you not to piss me off any more than you already have."  
  
Shawn ran his tongue slowly across his lower lip, tasting the coppery blood that coated it. "What does it matter, Hunter?"  
  
Hunter cocked his head to the side by way of inquiry. When Shawn hesitated to reply, Hunter struck the smaller man again, finally releasing his hair and allowing him to fall to the floor. "Explain yourself," he growled.  
  
Shawn raised himself up on his elbows and glared up at Hunter. "You're gonna do it anyway, so why does it matter if I piss you off or not?"  
  
Hunter's eyes narrowed. "Are you asking me to hurt you, Shawn? Are you? Because I can do that shit for you with no problem."  
  
Shawn merely sat on the floor, regarding the other man impassively. "I didn't ASK you for anything."  
  
Hunter had heard enough. With a feral growl, he threw himself on top of Shawn and grabbed a fistful of hair on either side of the smaller man's head. He lifted Shawn's head up and slammed it back down on the concrete floor with a satisfying crack. "I. Have. Had. Enough. Of. Your. Shit." He snarled, punctuating each word with another slam of Shawn's head on the floor.  
  
The last few blows left Shawn dazed and threatened to rob him of consciousness. He just barely managed to gasp out, "Then why do you come back to me?"  
  
Hunter paused for a moment, letting the question sink in. He leaned down close to Shawn's face so that their noses were practically touching. "Because you need this," he whispered against Shawn's lips. "To feel like you still matter to me."  
  
Shawn blinked in surprise, realizing the truth of Hunter's words. "So what set you off this time? Not enough air time for you tonight? Fans losing interest in the 'Monday Night Triple H Show?'"  
  
Hunter blanched visibly at the words before sending a hard right across Shawn's jaw, slamming his head back into the floor.  
  
"Truth hurt, Hunter?" came the irritating query.  
  
"Not at all," Hunter snapped back, but he knew he was lying to himself. He looked curiously down at Shawn, wondering when the other man had learned to read him so well.   
  
Shawn stared back boldly, unafraid. Then his eyes flickered for one brief moment before he lashed out with his fist, knocking Hunter backwards and off of him. He immediately took the offensive, climbing on top of the larger man, and wrapped his hands around Hunter's throat, determined to choke him into silence.  
  
Hunter gasped for air and squirmed, not fighting back with any real effort. "Do it," he hissed. "You know you want to…"  
  
Shawn stared down at Hunter and flashed a wicked smile. "No. That's what YOU want, Hunter. Don't complicate the issue."  
  
Hunter snorted angrily and threw Shawn off of him. "Don't flatter yourself. I don't think enough of you to want to actually kill you."  
  
Shawn sat on the floor, facing Hunter, who sat a few feet away. Hunter's words stung, even more so because he knew that Hunter really meant what he said. He'd suspected, of course, that he was nothing more to Hunter than a punching bag, but hearing things spelled out for him didn't make the truth any easier to take.  
  
Correctly judging Shawn's reaction, Hunter allowed a terrible smile to spread across his face. "Truth hurt, Shawn?" The smaller man's silent distress was all the answer he needed. Hunter snorted again and rose to his feet, ignoring Shawn as he began adjusting his clothing and hair in the mirror.  
  
Shawn's nearly inaudible question was the only sound in the room. "Why do you still do this to me, Hunter?" When he got no answer, he slowly stood up, not making any attempts to move closer to the other man. "I've moved on. Why haven't you?"  
  
Hunter flinched and immediately schooled his features, hoping the lapse in control went unnoticed. He ran a hand through his tawny hair before walking slowly towards the door.  
  
"Hunter? Tell me. I really wanna know," Shawn's plea carried with it an element of desperation.  
  
Without even turning around to face Shawn, Hunter called over his shoulder. "Because you are a weak, pathetic excuse for a man. Naïve, ignorant, and needy. You trust me when I hate you. You need me to abuse you with all my heart."  
  
Shawn let out a sad sigh as Hunter strode arrogantly from the room. "…give me more." His soft voice seemed uncommonly loud in the now-empty room. "Make me stronger…" 


End file.
